Mother's Dirty Joke # 2

[rps]

Mother’s Dirty Joke Number Two

A man walks into a bar and orders a whisky. The bartender pours him two fingers and slides the popcorn basket next to the drink. He picks up the bill on the bar and turns to the register. A moment later he returns and places the change in front of the customer. As he begins to turn away, the customer speaks.

            “Say, I’m new in town. What can I find for entertainment around here?”

            Immediately on his guard, the bartender faces the man and looks him over.

            “What kind of entertainment would you be seeking?”

            “Oh nothing like that tone of voice. I mean music, maybe dancing. Something besides a CD list, you know?”

            The bartender relaxes noticeably. He shrugs his shoulders and tilts his head for a moment. Then he answers.

            “Well, it is Monday. You can see how slow it is here. All the joints in this area are Thursday, Friday, and Saturday for live shows. Not much choice, unless you’re willing to take the train into town.”

            “Nah. I don’t want to take the train in. I just wanted a few drinks and something besides radio music. Enough days on the road and even live classical would sound good.”

            The bartender eyes him again. Finally, looking as if he’s made a decision, the bartender bends over and reaches under the bar. First he pulls out a miniature baby grand piano with both hands. He places the black lacquered instrument on the bar. Next comes a stool. On the third reach, he places a foot tall musician in white tie and tails on the bar. The small man has long blond hair and that unmistakable attitude you see at the concert hall.

            The man walks to his instrument, flips his tails, and sits. After a pregnant pause, he reaches to the keyboard and begins. For ninety minutes the most beautiful piano works come forth. Chopin, Debussey, and Mozart flow. Between pieces the bartender refills the customer’s glass and when no other customers come in, the bartender joins him for a jar. At the conclusion of the concert, the customer is on his feet, clapping and repeating bravos. He turns to the bartender.

            “Wherever did you find him? He’s magnificent. ”

Before answering, the bartender places the instrument, the stool, and the musician back under the bar. He puts both hands on the bar and ruefully begins.

            “I didn’t find him. I won him.”

            “Won him?”

            “Yeah. You see, one day I was over by the park, on the way back from visiting a friend. The rain finally stopped, and there it was, the grandest rainbow you ever saw. I couldn’t help myself. I turned and headed for where the rainbow ended. As I got closer I hunkered down and walked real quiet. Me and Paddy had downed a few, but I was still fine for sneaking. Finally I peeked over a hill, and there he was.”

“Now, I can tell from the look on your face you don’t believe me, but I swear the little green man was dancing there at the end of the rainbow. I remembered all the things I heard while I was growing up. I decided then and there to try and catch the man.”

“You found a leprechaun?”

“Isn’t that what I’m saying? I found him alright. I got down on my belly and slithered real slow towards him. After a while he danced near enough to reach. I jumped him, and then it began. He may have been no bigger than my piano player, but he was strong. Stronger than anyone I’ve wrestled since I was a schoolboy. We tore up the ground in the park, digging up rocks the size of refrigerators and rerouting the brook and all. I was a grand match. Finally, I tried a throw. When it worked, and he went down, I could not believe my eyes. He burst into tears. He looked up at me and says with a brogue, ‘Now I suppose you’ll be wanting my gold?’ I told him ‘Why sure, I would’ and then he fooled me.”

“Fooled you?” The customers question came as if on cue.

“He made me an offer. He told me he would grant whatever wish I might have, if only he could keep his gold. At first I turned him down. It seemed a powerful lot of gold. But then he kept making suggestions about what I could wish for. They got wilder and wilder. It finally dawned on me he meant it when he said anything. That was my mistake. I got to thinking. After a while, I told him I’d take his deal. We shook on it, and I told him what I wanted. I just wish he hadn’t been so old.”

“Old?”

“Why sure. He must have been mostly deaf. You don’t think I asked for a 12 inch pianist, do you?”

The customer reaches into his pocket, peels three twenties, throws them on the bar, turns, and walks out without a word.